


A Catalogue of the Lovers the Soong-Android Data Collected in the 19th Century

by LyricDreamweaver



Category: Star Trek: The Next Generation
Genre: Anal Sex, Basically manipulating an android into sex, Blowjobs, Circa Time's Arrow, Gentle Sex, M/M, PWP, dubcon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-23
Updated: 2017-07-30
Packaged: 2018-12-05 16:12:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11581578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LyricDreamweaver/pseuds/LyricDreamweaver
Summary: Exactly what it says on the tin.





	1. Mon beaux

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ameerkatofficial](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ameerkatofficial/gifts).



> HEY AMMERKAT, ILY AND I WROTE DATA FUCKING JACK LONDON GENTLY FOR YOU

"I brought you something from the bakery again, partner," Jack said, placing another wrapped package on Data's desk. 

Data paused in his work of attuning this sensor module _here_ and blinked. Slowly he unwrapped this parcel to find something sweeter than the baked good the bellhop usually brought. Data wondered if the bellhop was doing his job properly when he seemed so fixated on the android.

After a long silence, Data simply said, "I see."

"Aren't you going to eat it?"

Data blinked, confused for just a second, then lied, "I am not hungry at this moment."

"When do you eat?" Jack was hovering now, eyes darting between Data’s machine and the pastry from yesterday, untouched as far as he could tell. “I don’t think anyone here’s ever seen you eat.”

"I eat when I choose to." And that wasn't completely a lie but his tone warned Jack not to press the issue.

Jack's hand brushed Data's as he picked up the new list. "So would you like to go out tonight for dinner? You've been working awful hard, Data."

"I would prefer to continue working."

"I know a place that has good booze and better poker tables." Jack put a hand on Data's shoulder, thumb running gentle circles over the android's back.

"Poker," Data repeated. "I do enjoy a couple games of poker here and there."

"Then let's go _there_ ," Jack said, voice lowered to a purr, but his flirtation was lost on the android.

When Data stood, ready to abandon his work for now, Jack pressed his lips gently to Data's cheek. Stiffly, Data held Jack’s hand. Jack London intertwined their fingers, gently pulling the android along after him.

* * *

They made it back to Data's room just after three. Jack was tipsy but Data himself was stone-cold sober. And the bellhop (if he could be referred to as the bellhop, since he wore a simple brown suit on their outing) pressed fevered kisses to Data's mouth, as though Data was simply going to evaporate.

Looking at Jack this close, Data could finally appreciate the man's face. He had a narrow face with high cheekbones, making him horribly unattractive. And yet seeing those dark brown eyes so wide, so fixated on him, Data felt something spark under his skin and, though there was no change in temperature, the android felt warm.

Jack London smelled like cigars and whiskey and sweat and Data couldn't help but save that combination in his memory, something to revisit.

"Jack."

"Data, it's alright."

Data, wordlessly, ran his fingers through the young man's hair, messing up the neatness he strived so hard for. That small bit of chaos made Jack look far more handsome.

"There. You have a rather strange symmetry to your face."

And Jack looked down, hurt, and licking his lips as though he was going to speak.

"I appreciate it."

"Data . . ." Jack London was flustered, face hot with something Data couldn't quite place. "You're too much of a sweet-talker."

Data tilted his head just enough to show he didn't quite understand.

"No one's ever called me handsome before," Jack admitted. "Or close to it, I guess."

Slowly, Data mimicked the previous motions of lips to lips, returning every ounce of that hungry passion while also restraining himself, adapting to what Jack wanted. One hand rested on Jack's shoulder and his other hand on his hip, as if they were going to waltz instead of kissing each other feverishly before Data’s bedroom door. 

Jack reached behind Data and opened the bedroom door before gently guiding Data backwards and onto the bed. 

"You're very handsome," Jack said, gently pushing Data into the sheets. 

"Thank you."

Jack laughed, a delightfully light and rich sound that had Data smiling. He set to work on Data's waistcoat, undressing the android slowly, savouring each moment. His lips pressed against Data's throat, making the android sigh with happiness. 

"Jack, I appreciate this. All of of this," Data began.

"Then let me do this. For you," Jack London said, nuzzling against Data's neck and working on the buttons of his shirt. 

After a long moment, Jack's hands fumbling at their clothes, Data reached up to help undress the human. 

"If it will make you happy, I would like to continue this affair," Data said.

"It would make me happy."

And then Jack's lips were on his throat again, simply kissing down along Data's throat, over his collarbones, his shoulder. The sheer gentleness of the act had Data looking at Jack for confirmation. Getting a look of want and consent, Data pushed the fabric over Jack's shoulders.

"You're very well-built," Jack murmured, mouthing against Data's shoulder.

"My maker was very particular about my form."

Jack laughed, pressing his lips to Data's. "I don't doubt it."

Data's fingers followed the curve of Jack's spine, hand resting gingerly on his hip. "Is it alright if I continue to undress you?"

Jack nodded and Data had the man's belt undone in a flash of movement, while Jack undid Data's belt slower, unbuttoning the android's trousers and pressing his lips over Data's chest.

"How would you prefer we be positioned?" Data asked, running a hand up Jack's thigh, fingers hooking into the man's trousers and inching the fabric down. "What would make you most comfortable?"

"Just like this," Jack said, pulling away to pull off his trousers and under everything he was stark nude. "I want you just laying back in bed like that."

"You are certain?"

Jack nodded, smiling as he came to straddle Data. "This is quite a change, Mister Data."

Data's hands idly rested on Jack's hips. "A change from . . . ?"

"From you being so stiff all the time," Jack answered, kissing along Data's jaw. "You act like a puppet without the strings."

Data chose to say nothing, not knowing how to respond to that remark. He still had ‘strings” in the form of his programming, but Jack couldn’t even begin to understand that. Instead, Data simply rubbed circles into Jack's skin with his thumbs, mostly idle and waiting for the human to guide him.

Jack's hands went to Data's anatomy and the feeling of oil made Data hum with appreciation. And then Jack slid onto Data's anatomy and the android felt nothing but pleased. There was warmth and pressure but nothing felt uncomfortable for Data. New and strange but not uncomfortable.

His brow furrowed and he asked, "Are you alright?"

"Fine," Jack said, taking his time adjusting to Data's size. 

Data massaged the other's hip, not wanting to rush him and hurt the human. Jack seemed to relax, the tension held in his shoulders and thighs disappearing. And, slowly, with Data's guidance, Jack began rocking his hips.

At first it was shallow rocking, just getting used to the feeling of friction. Then, Jack took one of Data's hands, holding it in his own. Without the android's hand holding and guiding him, Jack began riding in earnest, muscles of his thighs tensing with each cant of his hips. 

And Data couldn't help but move his own hips. One hand on the man's hip, one hand intertwined with Jack's, and his hips thrusting up into him.

Jack's head lolled back, lost in the sensations of their sex. His hand gripping Data's as if it was the only thing keeping him sane. Every thrust of Data's hips drew a long, low groan that sent jolts through Data's processors and he wanted to hear more of those delightful moans.

Jack tensed above him and Data knew the human was closing to coming undone. 

"Do you want—"

Jack cut him off by pressing his mouth against Data's, passionate and hungry. And the human reached his climax with a shudder and low cry against Data's neck, hips moving shallowly. But it was enough for Data to reach a climax of his own, spilling fluid into his human lover.

For a long moment, they both came down from the high, Jack pulling himself off of Data to lay at the android's side.

"Allow me to get something to clean us with." And Data disappeared to the bathroom, getting a rag and wetting it.

He tended to Jack first, cleaning him off gently. The human simply lay there, watching with half-lidded eyes but the smile on his face et Data know he was satisfied. Once Jack was cleaned, Data tucked him in, a blanket pulled up over the human's waist, covering him modestly. Data himself simply pulled on a thick robe before going back to work at his desk.

Over his shoulder, Data whispered, "Sleep well, Jack London."


	2. Mon Frère

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FYI this is also for Ameerkat.
> 
> Bc French porn is best porn.

"Monseuir Data!"

The sight of the Frenchman (La Roque, the bellboy had said) made Data raise a brow. Then La Roque pressed his hands over Data's chest, leaning into kiss the android's cheek. 

"I need your help desperately," he sighed, mouthing along Data's jaw. 

"You need money," Data stated. 

"But I am not a leech, _mon frère_ ," La Roque said, lowering his voice to a purr. "You need but name the price."

"The price for what?" Data asked, blinking and gently removing one of Frederick’s hands from his chest.

"Why, the price for pleasure," La Roque said. "I can do more than play cards and speak French."

"You mean intercourse," Data said. He nodded, then removed the other hand. "I am in no need of that service."

"Please, monseuir," The Frenchman begged. "Just once and I will be on my way. It would not be right to simply ask for money."

Data considered it. Then he nodded, letting La Roque into his room. "I suppose it could not hurt to help you."

"And you will receive a very just reward, monseuir."

The Frenchman raised a brow at the device on the desk, then shed his rather simple and conservative black coat, which he then tossed over one of the armchairs. He pushed Data onto the bed, hands trailing down the android's chest. The Frenchman sank to his knees, hands running up the android's thighs, finally reaching Data's belt, undoing the fastening. 

One hand massaged the android's cock through his trousers, the Frenchman humming in appreciation. 

"It seems you are generous in more than once sense of the word."

Data blinked, then nodded, just slightly.

The Frenchman pulled Data's trousers down, mouthing at the android's cock. After looking up at Data for permission, the Frenchman took as much of the android into his mouth as he could manage. 

One of Data's hands ran through the Frenchman's mane, gripping his hair and forcing him to take more. The Frenchman tensed, then sighed through his nose, and stopped fighting against the firm grasp of the android. He did look up, trying to see if Data was enjoying this.

Data relaxed his grip and the Frenchman bobbed his head, sending a jolt through Data's system. That, Data could recognize, was circuits and conduits under his skin processing pleasure.

" _More, please,_ " Data murmured, switching over to French. 

The Frenchman complied, bobbing his head as much as Data's grip would allow, deep-throating the android. Data tensed, unaccustomed to this more carnal sense of pleasure coursing through his circuits. The android had to restrain himself from gripping too tightly, from using the human. He released the other instead, worried he might burnout from the self-control. 

The Frenchman looked up at Data, slowing to a torturous pace and the android's eyes widened. 

" _Please,_ " Data begged. 

The Frenchman pulled away, mouthing at the android's cock. "But why? Why must we rush?"

"I had assumed from your earlier disposition -"

And something the man did had Data grip the sheets. That was certainly an interesting thing to do with one's tongue. Data saved that one for later reference.

"Perhaps that was a ruse."

"Is all of it a ruse?" Data asked. "Did you want the sexual contact or the money?"

"Sex," The Frenchman murmured and his breath had the android tensed, enjoying all this teasing.

Did humans enjoy this much teasing, the android wondered silently. 

"You desired sexual contact, then," Data said. "All you needed to do was ask."

"But you were worried about me," The Frenchman said, mouth completely ignoring the android but his hands rubbed at the inside of Dta's thighs. "I enjoy your worried look."

Data blinked a few times, muling that over. Concern was enjoyable? It seemed humans did have quite conflicting emotional poles and the idea of reconciling them was a mystery.

But then La Roque deep-throated Data without warning and the android hummed softly at the surprise assault on his cock, trying to process that amount of pleasure with their previous conversation and in no time at all, Data spilled his biofluid into the Frenchman's throat. The human made a contented noise, swallowing and Data wondered if that was going to do some harm to the human. Perhaps not. Data hoped not.

"Well," the Frenchman said, fixing Data's clothes. "I rather liked that."

"You did?" 

La Roque nodded, buttoning his shirt and pulling on his coat. "I love a gernerous Frenchman."


	3. Mon Cher

It was a very stately manor. The gravel road up to the house itself was lined with orange trees, which now held blossoms the size of a man's fist, each promising the juiciest of fruits later in the season. Between each blossom flew fat bees, who had dominated the trees while the butterflies were reduced to the delicate orchids and white roses that were carefully cultivated against the manor. And across the bricks grew thick ropes of ivy, each plant extending its tendril upward, toward the very heavens themselves, while the leaves were content to bow toward the earth. A tomcat strode across the lawn, pouncing upon a butterfly, content simply to crush those delicate pieces of fluttering beauty before moving onto the next one, catching that insect in his mouth, spitting the corpse onto the lawn.

And, it being late May, the heat made it necessary for the house to have as many windows open as possible, breezes incited to come and play with the white curtains, making the rooms look like some ship with the sails unfurling for some great adventure. Most of the serving boys had run off this ate in the afternoon to run errands of their own and the cook was dozing in the pantry, catching a break between lunch and supper.

And in the study, Data browsed the shelves, fingers brushing over Clemens' collection. Surely, this was an educated man, one well-off too since these books were so beautifully bound. And yet, in the collection, there were more published by Mark Twain that Data felt appropriate for an author. A prideful thing to own one's own books in such a quantity. To devote an entire bookcase for one's own novels, even including space for new novels, seemed a very human thing to the android.

"You must be a well-read man, Mister Data."

Data turned only his head, one hand paused over an uncut book. "I have some classical education. Science, mathematics, English, French."

"I bet you could learn anything you wanted to," Clemens said. "Perhaps, German."

Data gave a subtle nod.

"And from your machine you must be quite educated with your hands."

Another gentle nod from the android.

"But how do you learn?" Clemens asked. "Is it like how humans learn?"

"I do not -"

"You're no albino, Mister Data." Clemens came round the desk, pulling a cigar from the box. Gesturing as he cut and lit his cigar, Clemens continued, "You have a delightful metallic hue to you."

"My skin - "

"Is made of metal, correct?"

"It is a synthetic alloy. Pliable enough to allow me to present as more human, but durable enough to protect my internal mechanisms from damage," Data answered. 

And Clemens stared at Data in silent contemplation while the human puffed on his cigar, considering Data as if he were a fine jewel just polished from the mines or as if Data were fresh flower plucked from the garden. Slowly, he offered Data another cigar, but the android held up his hand.

"I am not affected by nicotine," Data said. "Cigars, cigarettes, pipes, or chewing tobacco."

"But you are human in most capacities?" Clemens asked.

"I require no sleep," Data answered. "Nor do I require solid food. I do ingest a bio-lubricant, which maintains my internal processes."

"You breathe," Clemens noted, blowing perfect circles of smoke. "And you blink."

"My father created every function of my form with two purposes. First, that I might pass off as human in most situations. Second, each process performs a secondary and useful function." Data clasped his hands behind his back, feeling something akin to pride.

"What would happen if you were to stop breathing?" Clemens asked.

"A lack of respiration would lead my internal temperature to rise." Data tilted his head, confused as to why anyone would want to throttle him.

"And you said 'father.' Was he the person who moulded you from the earth, gave you life?"

Data gave another small nod. "Doctor Soong. He was my . . . father. Thought I never had a human 'childhood,' there was a period where my programming required me to learn from them."

"What did they teach you?"

"Modesty," Data said softly, remembering fondly the shock he had given his parents. "As well as an understanding of human emotions, my education in French, English, mathematics, engineering . . ." He wondered if Clemens would even begin to understand the nuances of warp core capabilities. Data simply ran a finger over the spine of a novel, staring without really seeing.

"Modesty," Clemens said after a long while, snubbing out his cigar in his ashtray, "is defined vaguely, isn't it? For example, a woman's skirts must be a certain length if she is to appear in polite company."

Data gave a small quirk of his lips, showing his understanding. Would it be polite to tell Clemens that hoop skirts were as much out of fashion as novels in Data's own time?

"Perhaps, Mister Data, I could show you what I mean."

There was a suggestive note that lingered on the air between them and it unsettled the android. However, it was rather tedious to wear so many layers. Clemens took a step closer to the android, fingers working open the buttons on Data's waistcoat and the fabric fell over Data's shoulders, pooling on the floor of the study without a timepiece to burden it. Data could keep his own time and the aesthetics of pocket-watches were not Data's favourite things.

"You're a very handsome time traveller," Clemens said. "Or did your maker have some ulterior motive."

"I was created to look human. Nothing more and nothing less than that."

Clemens hummed and Data blinked.

"Is something wrong?"

Clemens shook his head. "I was just considering the possibility of you being placed in the wrong hands."

Data loosened his own tie, tossing the scrap of fabric to the floor to join his waistcoat. "What would be the problem? I know how to prevent others from figuring out my nature."

"They would treat you as a girl treats a porcelain doll, Mister Data."

"Explain."

"They'd love you until they broke you. Then they'd simply throw you away."

And Data had been thinking about his own mortality for the past few days. He had assumed he would continue functioning but the idea of providing a corpse to be thrown out with the rest of the rubbish seemed more frightening than the possibility of an actual end.

"And you, Mister Clemens?"

"Hmm?" Clemens' hands were working open the buttons of Data's shirt, knuckles brushing against the bare synthetic flesh underneath. 

"What do you want with me?" Data asked, holding Clemens by the wrists. "Would you throw me out once you broke me, shattered my limbs perhaps?"

"I would, if all else failed, keep your body, if that's what you're asking."

Data, slowly, let go of the human. It wasn't the best prospect, but it was far better than being thrown away like some damaged toy.

"Are you capable of intercourse, Mister Data?" 

He gave a small tilt of the head indicating that, yes, he was fully functional sexually. 

"I have to wonder, once again, about your maker's motives."

"I have heard," Data said as Clemens unfastened his belt, "that is is immodest to discuss one's parents with an intimate partner."

Clemens gave a chuckle. He pushed Data down, the android's chest flush with the sturdy mahogany of the writing desk. Data's trousers were down around his ankles and there was the sound of another belt being undone and the android couldn't help but feel a twinge of nerves. Not that he could feel pain in the ordinary sense but this position left his off switch so vulnerable.

And Clemens traced the edge of the switch as he entered the android, hips flush with the back of Data's thighs.

"Don't - "

Clemens removed his hand, cupping Data's hip. And while the human rocked into him, the android couldn't help but think about this affair. There was no pain, nor any sense of pleasure. There was pressure and warmth, but nothing beyond the objective facts of penetration and Data’s own anatomy grinding against the cool surface of Clemens writing desk. Beneath him, the mahogony, sturdy as it was, complained loudly, creaking with Data's weight and he considered how easy it would be to crack the wooden surface just by gripping it hard enough.

And then there were fingers toying with his switch again, not quite pressing but with the threat of one fluid motion turning Data off. 

"Clemens," Data warned.

But the human, panting above him and any sense of rhythm lost, seemed unable to hear him. The cicadas in the garden seemed louder than Data's voice, the hum of bees drowning out the android.

"Clemens."

The switch was pressed. Data turned his head just enough to give Clemens a wounded look before his eyes went glassy, his whole body going limp, seemingly dead.

Clemens finished before he realized how exactly this scene looked. The "albino" was bent over Clemens' writing desk, a cooling heat coating the android's thighs and Data gave no indication of life, golden eyes open and unfocused but the whole of the android’s body relaxed enough that Clemens could carry him, should he choose. It was like a large man-sized doll had simply been draped over the furniture. That thought struck Clemens as eerie enough to warrant an investigation and he stooped to gather the android’s discarded clothing.

It was quite hurried and awkward to dress someone in a state of death without decay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will apologize for absolutely none of this.


	4. Ma Colombe

There was a humming as Data turned back on, systems running a check for any injuries and, finding none, Data sat up on the metal table, blinking a few times. 

"He's alive."

"Father?" This scene was one lodged in Data's memory, distant but with a vague sense of warmth, of home.

There was a sharp, barking laugh that filled the room, echoing. Looking around, Data took in Clemens standing at his side, looking less like a concerned father and more like a pleased child.

"I have returned to my previous capacities, yes," Data said, turning his head toward Samuel Clemens. "I warned you not to -"

"An android, hmm?"

Data turned his head and, for a moment, couldn't quite place that new face. Then he gave a small, startled inhale.

Nikola Tesla ran a hand up Data's arm, simply feeling. "How was it done?"

Data blinked, "Clemens did not -"

"He was more interested in getting you awake," Tesla answered, looking up at the android. "But I am intrigued."

And the hand resting on Data's shoulder was more than welcome. More welcome, in fact, than any of Clemens' touches had been.

"It is a pleasure to meet you, sir," Data said softly. 

"Clemens," Tesla said, "perhaps you should leave us."

"But I -"

"Data is my patient and I am his doctor," Tesla explained. "Some privacy would be appreciated."

"Tesla -"

"I have some matters to discuss."

Data gave a gentle nod. "I would appreciate the opportunity to discuss my condition in private, Clemens."

Clemens, casting a reluctant glance between Tesla and Data, decided two against one was an underhanded move. With a grumble, he left the laboratory, the door shutting perhaps a bit harder than necessary.

"I would have never thought it possible," Tesla murmured. 

Data blinked a few times, still a bit awestruck. Nikola. Tesla. In the flesh and not a holosuite. And he rested his hand on Data's shoulder, so warm and gentle. Tesla's eyes held a caring spark and Data felt his circuits come alive properly.

"Nikola Tesla," Data breathed.

"You are a marvel," Tesla said softly. "How was it done? I mean, I've seen your internal mechanisms but I am having some trouble understanding it."

"No doubt Clemens told you everything."

"He brought a body into my laboratory," Tesla said, hand moving from Data's shoulder to cup the android's cheek. "And I thought he had some wicked scheme but he brought you to me."

"I was concerned, after he hit my off switch, that I might never wake up."

"This isn't your home, is it?" Tesla ran his thumb along the curve of Data's lower lip. "Clemens told me that much, though he was frantic. Something about a time traveller."

"Yes," Data said softly. He cast a look around the lab and there was a pang of longing for some of the equipment. "I was hoping to return to my own time."

There was a question in Tesla's eyes but he didn't ask and the silence stretched long between them. Data took Tesla's wrist gently, pressing his lips to the human's hot palm.

"There is so much I wish I could say," Data said. 

"Don't," Tesla said softly. "I don't want to be gorged on the knowledge of the future."

Data's fingers paused before Tesla's tie, a silent question of consent. Tesla nodded and the tie was discarded. Tesla's hands were so hot on the android's skin Data thought the heat would leave its mark, but Tesla maintained a cool composure, fingers never faltering and the _gasp_ Tesla made seeing Data's torso bare. Data pressed his lips to Tesla's forehead, adjusting their position. 

Tesla, nestled between the android's thighs, leaned up to kiss Data gently. The inventor's lips were warm, as though he had a mad fever burning through him and how he could keep his composure was beyond the android, who felt the thrum of electrical impulses under his synthetic skin, each crying out for this one human who had such an idol-hood burned into the android's mind.

Was that part of his programming, Data wondered to himself. 

"Data," Tesla breathed and that was almost enough to send the android headlong into climax. "Data, may I do something?"

"Of course." And the android's breathing was competing to keep up with his rising temperature, trying to keep his circuits provided with cool air. Data felt, for a long moment, that this might be what drowning is.

Tesla's hands finally fumbled so delightfully with Data's trousers that it gave the android a moment of respite. Then those warm hands were on his length and Data's hand shot out, grabbing the inventor's shoulder to keep himself anchored. 

"Did I hurt you?"

"No," Data murmured, "not at all."

"You'll tell me if I do something that does hurt?"

Data said softly, "I am incapable of feeling pain."

Tesla kissed Data, hesitant now, and the motion of his hand was so inexperienced the android felt content he would last a bit longer. Tesla kept looking up at Data, wanting confirmation that he was doing this right. Data pressed little kisses along the inventor's jawline, praising him without speaking.

And Tesla sped up the motion of his hand, making the android's breath hitch. Pleasure coursed through his wires and circuits and Data captured Tesla's mouth in an awkward, clumsy kiss, but Tesla returned it with every ounce of awkwardness and earnestness.

Climax, for the android, came in waves, him spilling into Tesla's hand. Data gave a long, pleased sigh as Tesla continued stroking through the android's orgasm until Data had to speak.

"I'm done." A little shake of his head.

Tesla nodded and the warmth of his body left, Data would have shivered if he were just one percent more human. The inventor brought a wet cloth, cleaning the android and himself. Before redressing Data, Tesla leaned up to give the android a quick peck on the lips and that sent enough warmth through Data's system to make up for the absence of body heat.

"We should make ourselves respectable," Tesla suggested, working on Data's trousers. 

There was a reluctance in Data's system, something the android put aside. It wouldn't do for Clemens to come barging in. 

"Data?"

"Yes?"

"I enjoyed that," Tesla said, looking over at one of his half-finished projects. "I enjoy your company, even though it was short."

"I would enjoy more of your company," Data suggested. "Perhaps we could go for a cup of coffee sometime."

Tesla's hand rested on Data's knee and the inventor nodded. "I'd like that, I think."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DID YOU KNOW TESLA AND CLEMENS HUNG OUT? NOW YOU KNOW.


	5. Esprit d'escalier

The room was filled with the heat and light of late afternoon, golden rays trailing over the desk—now cleared from the machine that once held it—and spilled across the opposite wall, every shadow banished from the bedroom.

Nikola Tesla tilted his head, watching intently. He sat stiffly in an armchair, covered in golden light and content to have some distance between himself and the two figures in bed.

Jack London was above Data, rutting with all the tact and grace of a teenage virgin. His hair was a mess from carding fingers through it, swearing softly under his breath.

Data settled his hands on his lover's hip. He had hoped, with a person he was fond of, this would be better but it was the same dull sensations without actual emotions. Even having a second person—Data turned his head to lock eyes with Tesla—didn't excite him enough. It was simply pressure and sensation, nothing more and nothing less.

Jack London held Data's hip and the android decided he'd had enough experimentation for one day.

"Computer, pause simulation."

Everything stopped. Nikola Tesla fizzled, a silent ask from one machine to another. Data gave a subtle shake of his head and Tesla remained perfectly frozen.

Untangling himself from Jack London, Data pulled on his clothes. He was in the middle of pulling on his shirt when the door slid open.

"Data I -"

Geordi looked around the room and sighed softly.

"You had me worried, Dee."

Data stared, his modesty subroutines kicking in to stimulate shame, though Data didn't understand completely why. "Why would you be worried?"

"Barclay said you were spending a lot of time in here," Geordi explained. He stepped closer to the frozen Tesla, pointedly ignoring the naked figure of Jack London, paused mid-coitus.

"I have," Data said. It was not in his programming to lie. "I wanted to experiment."

"What were you experimenting on?"

Data looked down at the shirt in his hand before pulling it on. A few adjustments and there was no evidence—aside from the holosuite—that Data had been intimate with a simulation just moments prior.

"Geordi?"

"Yeah, Data?"

"I wanted to know if I felt actual love or just a grate fondness for people," Data admitted slowly. It was as close to the truth as Data could formulate. 

"You don't need to get naked for the first person you're fond of Data."

That seemed reasonable. Data got up, moving closer to Geordi.

"I was fond of Tesla," Data said.

"You met Nikolai Tesla?" Geordi asked, looking over at the android. "You're going to have to tell me about it. Let's go get some drinks, Dee."

“Computer, end simulation.”

The room disappeared. It was slow, the colours going grey, smaller objects being broken down and stored for later—thought Data was sure now there wouldn’t be a later—and then finally, the visages of Data’s previous lovers were broken down and stored in the file. The only things left were Geordi and Data and the exit.

Data's hand twitched at his side and Geordi took it without needing a single word spoken. Perhaps, Data reasoned, this fondness was far better than anything he had experienced previously.


End file.
